Dear, Eight year old me
by Watermelon95
Summary: 'Family is when people love you. When you have someone to go to when you're sad, and someone that thinks you're perfect. I don't have a family.' Will an eight year-olds words ruin the relationship Rose and her mother are trying to rebuild?   Three-shot.


"Thanks for doing this mum," I said as I shuffled around my soon-to-be old apartment. It has been a few weeks after the coronation and Dimitri and I had finally chosen an apartment we liked, not that there was much to choose from. There's only so far the queen's best-friend can go before people get curious-not to mention jealous. I was happy with anything though. Dimitri and I could sleep out on the street fo all I care. As long as I saw his chocolate brown eyes and beautiful smile each morning, I was completely content. My mother was just helping me pack at the moment.

I was actually really surprised, but it seemed that when she saw me and Abe getting along so well she decided that she finally wanted to have a good relationship with me. It was still sketchy, but taking time off to help me pack is definitely earning her some brownie points. I felt like pulling out the 'Mommy, I'm really tired' trick, batting my eyelashes and asking her to finish the packing, but no, I had to be mature. I'm not a child anymore. (No matter how much I wanted to be).

I looked around the almost empty bedroom, observing its cleanliness. This is probably the cleanest it's been since I moved in. Although, I wasn't here very often, you know because of the whole 'being framed for killing the queen' thing. Still.

"You're welcome. It's interesting to see what stuff my daughter doesn't tell me about." I heard Janine shout from the other room. I turned to see her walk through the door and lean against the door frame, a casual smirk resting over her slightly chapped lips. I felt like turning into a bitchy Lissa- who knows everything about make-up- and telling my mother about something called lip gloss.

I was shocked to see my mother so light-hearted though. I felt like I was waiting for an apocalypse or something, because certainly, if _the _Janine Hathaway was acting this relaxed then the world was doomed.

Closer observation showed the small photo she was holding in her small hands. I tensed a little, curious as to what that photo was of. And maybe a little scared.

I inched closer slowly, narrowing my eyes to see a bit better. The closer I got, though, the more I realised that I _should_ be scared. In her hand, was a photo of me- in a terrible light. I was completely wasted and emptying my stomach over the floor, hair sticking together as bile collected in the locks. I was kneeling, clutching my stomach tightly. I looked about fifteen.

I tensed as Janine raised an eyebrow, her soft red curls falling over her shoulder as her head tilted. I've always liked her hair, and I adored the way it so easily remained perfect.

"That's not me," I tried, taking a step back, hands behind my back, trying to look innocent. Luckily she couldn't see my face, which meant that I might get away with this. Maybe. Possibly. Probably not.

"Oh? Then enlighten me, because I never realised you had a twin. Certainly I would know," Oh, ew, gross. She did not just bring up my birth.

"No, uh, it just looks like me. Ask Lissa, she'll tell you that it's not me,"

Janine took a threatening step forward, "Of course she will, she'll do anything to save your ass."

Woah! Did my mother just swear? Oh god, Dimitri was right. I _am_ just like Janine. Scary thought. Wait, why am _I_ cowering? She can't just _suddenly_ decide that she cares about me and that she has any right to criticise my actions. I crossed my arms, glaring back at her. She jumped a little, staring at me wide eyed, and I suddenly realised.

She was joking.

Janine was joking with me, and here I was glaring the hell out of her. God, I'm so _stupid! _I quickly changed my glare into a mocking one, instantly settling the tense atmosphere.

We both burst out laughing, not the fall on your ass laughing, but laughing none the less. It was nice, I can't even remember the last time I was so comfortable around my mother.

We were up to the last box, and let me say; _thank...God. _I was exhausted and eager to meet Dimitri at the new apartment. Knowing him and the way he's always so organised, Dimitri will have already unpacked.

"Good, then he can unpack my stuff," I murmured quietly to myself, but Janine must have heard. She looked up from the back of my wardrobe.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," I shook my head in dismissal, falling back onto the tiny couch I was going to sell. There was no room for it and my new-

_Our_ new apartment. Dimitri and my new apartment. I loved it.

"Hey Rose? What's this?" I tilted my head up. My mother was still shuffling through the back of my wardrobe after we'd found some old boxes there. She was holding up an old binder. It looked scratched and dusty, though the bright blue colour of the plastic was still intact. She opened it up and pulled out two pages that were stapled together. I sat up, watching curiously as my mother eyes flew across the page. Each word seemed like it hurt, by the way she clutched at her chest, the way her face turned sad, and the way she wiped a lonely tear away from her cheek.

I watched- almost in slow motion- as the pages fell to the floor, floating in the air until they hit the carpet, making no sound. I was so distracting with the white paper that I didn't hear the loud footsteps of my mother storming out of the room. I turned just in time to see the swish of red hair turning the corner. I was about to get up and chase after her when the loud 'bang' of the front door stopped me. There was no point, when a Hathaway didn't want to be found then then she wouldn't be. Ahem, _not_ including the time when Dimitri found me and Lissa in Portland.

I dropped to the floor from my bed, crawling the few feet over to the paper. I knelt on my knees and picked up the smooth sheets, bringing them up to my chest so that I could read the small writing. It was typed, so there weren't any spelling mistakes- thank god for autocorrect- and it was about a page and a half. At the top was 'Rose' because- once again- the teacher tried to get me to write my full name. It didn't work. The essay-like paper looked to be around ten years old, so I was probably eight when I wrote it.

_Name: Rose. I'm the only Rose in my class so you don't need my last name._

_Date: 18/4_

_** Write about your family, and what family means.**_

_Family is when people love you. When you have someone to go to when you're sad, and someone that thinks you're perfect. I don't have a family. Well, not a biological family. _(I remember Lissa was the one to teach me that word). _I never see my mum, so she doesn't love me or think I'm perfect, and I don't know my daddy so he doesn't love me either. My mum is a big guardian, but it means she loves her job more than me. It hurts. My chest hurts when I talk about it, so now I'll move onto my real family, the ones that make my chest not hurt. They make me happy._

_First, there is Lissa..._

And then I went on to talk about Lissa and Andre, and their parents. I wrote about what we did whenever they came to visit, and how nice they were to me. If it wasn't for the first paragraph then maybe I would've applauded myself for being an awesome kid, and for actually having done my homework, but those words were harsh. That's why mum left. But honestly, I don't understand. Why was she so upset? It was her fault. My eight year-old words were true, but we were moving on from that. I knew that, but I'm not sure she did.

I took one last look at the page, noting the little sad face on the next page, after I'd summarised my relationship with my mother yet again. I took one last look before gripping the paper, taking strange pleasure in hearing the ripping and tearing bouncing around the room. When the pages were in half, I grinned. I felt free, I felt like a small weight was lifted off my shoulders. I felt like I could finally forgive my mum and move on.

* * *

><p>"C'mon, mum! Open up!" I pounded noisily on the front door of the Drozdov's house, who Janine was currently guarding. It was a guest house, and yet it was still way better than a dhampir's permanent apartment. My new apartment was shit compared to this one! Even the outside of the house made me roll my eyes!<p>

My knuckles began to hurt a little, and I wondered whether anyone other than my mother was home. If they were, then I hoped I annoyed them enough to open the door.

"You're being silly, mum!" And she called _me_ childish.

After a few minutes I finally gave up, deciding that she wasn't there. Even she would've answered the door by now. I'm proud to say that I could annoy the crap out of people when I wanted to. Hell, even when I didn't want to.

So, with one last shout out, just to be sure, I left; sulking back to my apartment to finish packing.

* * *

><p><em><strong>So, did you like that? I thought of it a while ago and finally decided to write it. It's only going to be a three shot, because I really don't have the time to write a full story at the moment.<strong>_

_**Now, if you want *Naughty laugh* I'd happily add a lemon between R&D into the last chapter, at your request. So if you want it ASK! :D**_

_**And remember to review! REEVIEWW!**_

_**~ Kim x**_


End file.
